


Once more, I Found You

by MarieAnne_Cormier



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Fate/Stay Night AU, I don't know how these things happen, I hope it's not too confusing, I really just wanted to see Caster!Jaina, It totally ran away from me as usual, It's past 3:30 AM I don't even know if it's any good at this point, Temporary Character Death, The AU that I don't know will be any good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 21:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17836328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAnne_Cormier/pseuds/MarieAnne_Cormier
Summary: Summoned into a Holy Grail War, Heroic Spirits must fight to the death for the ultimate prize, the Holy Grail. This is a war that can only have one winner, one Servant whose wish will be granted. The wheels of destiny turn in mysterious ways, and the players involved will all need to make hard decisions. Fate/Stay Night AU.





	Once more, I Found You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slackergami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slackergami/gifts).



> A gift for Tres, because she's the best and her art is a blessing to this fandom. :^) Special thanks to Raffinit for listening to me scream about this for two days even though she has no idea what the Fate universe even is, and for helping me in sections where I was totally stuck. Thank you, Raff!

The clash of weapons was as thunder. Metal met metal with such force and at such speeds that it was a continuous sound, roaring out like a lion’s cry and warning away any and all who might have been unlucky enough to hear it. If someone were skilled enough they have been able to glimpse flashes of blue-gold and purple-red moving in and out of focus, blurs of color clashing together again and again to form of a complex web of death to anything that might be caught in the weapons’ path.

The swordswoman grunted as she managed to deflect a vicious blow from the polearm, just barely managing to push the strike to the side so it wouldn’t tear off her head, a few white hairs flying loose where the blade had shorn them from her temple. She gritted her teeth and pushed the hooded figure back, regaining her footing before diving back for another strike. It was lithely dodged, and her opponent jumped high and back, landing a good distance away. Said distance was closed in the blink of an eye, the polearm coming down in a brutally fast motion that would have been fatal had it connected, but its target vanished a split second before the hit made it home and reappeared behind her opponent, thrusting her sword forward only to find it pushed aside by the bladed part of the polearm. 

The shorter woman let her sword skitter off her opponent’s weapon as she stepped forward, moving with the momentum of the deflection and spinning into a follow-up strike. The other woman was able to read the move, though, and brought the shaft of her polearm back toward the blow, deflecting it with an ease that would have been insulting had it been anyone else. The sword flashed through the air in a flurry of strikes, each one deadly and impossibly fast, but they were nimbly dodged or parried. The hooded figure contented herself with being placed on the defensive, biding her time until she spotted the slightest overextension in her opponent’s thrust, forcing an opening by pushing the sword out of position.

The swordswoman grunted and followed the path of her blade, just barely avoiding the deadly tip of the polearm touching her neck. Still, she was able to use the missed hit to her advantage and forced their weapons into a lock and almost managed to disarm the other woman with a movement aimed at dislocating her arm. The hooded figure saved herself at the last second and pulled herself away from the lock.

The two broke apart at the same time, landing on opposite light poles and smirking at each other. They had been fighting for a good while now, but neither was close to being out of breath and wouldn’t be even if they continued at this pace for a while to come. This was something they had been very used to doing, before. A carefully-practiced dance that had been perfected in times long since forgotten.

The swordswoman spoke first, her voice low and soft in spite of the other woman being well out of hearing range for humans at that volume. She knew her voice would carry all the same. “Still as strong and quick as ever. I’m glad to see that you haven’t gotten rusty in all this time.” Her words were melodious and almost seemed to curl around certain vowels, spoken in a language that had long since been lost to the passage of time.

The hooded figure chuckled and rested her polearm against her shoulder, long ears twitching faintly as she replied in the same melodious tongue. “And _I_ see that you’ve improved quite a bit. I don’t recall you being quite so skilled with a sword.”

The white-haired woman scoffed and shook her head before sheathing her weapon, incredulity coloring her tone. “Oh please. That is a lie and we both know it. _You_ were the one that insisted I pick up the sword again and drilled me relentlessly in it to ‘knock that noblewoman training out of you’. You complained enough about my style that I’ll never forget it.”

“Did I? I don’t recall.” The taller woman murmured, her tone much too innocent to be anything but false.

At an unspoken signal, they both jumped down onto the street again and walked towards one another, coming face to face and standing close, much too close for enemies. 

The hooded woman lifted her hand and pressed the palm to her opponent’s cheek, cooing softly when the woman closed her eyes and nuzzled into the touch. “It has been too long since we last saw each other, Jaina.”

Jaina nodded slowly, pressing a kiss into the gloved palm against her cheek. “ _Far_ too long, Sylvanas. It has been far too long.” Her eyes opened and her hands went to lower the hood that obscured the other woman’s face, revealing it in all its glory to her hungry gaze. Sylvanas wasn’t quite able to keep up with the torrent of emotions that went through those eyes, but the one she saw most often was _longing._

The risen Elf sighed softly and pressed her forehead against her wife’s. “You know there is only one way this can end, don’t you?”

Jaina nodded, her expression somber and her blue eyes stormy with the conflict she felt in her soul. “I know that’s how it supposedly goes, but I refuse to believe that it is the only outcome that awaits us. I also know that you are not taking this seriously right now.” When Sylvanas looked like she was about to protest, Jaina silenced her with a Look. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. Out of the entirety of your arsenal, you chose to fight me with _Oathbinder_. An Archer fighting with a polearm when she has incredibly powerful longbows and crossbows at her disposal? You are incredibly skilled with it, of course, but your specialty has always been the bow. Especially _that_ bow.”

Sylvanas sighed tiredly, her thumb beginning to trace the lines of her beloved’s jaw gently. “So says the _Caster_ fighting with a _sword_ against me, when you and I both know very well that you could destroy this very town with barely a fraction of your power should you wish it. It wouldn’t even be difficult, and I _know_ that you’re hiding your staff somewhere you can reach it at a moment’s notice.” Her expression softened and her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke next. “Neither of us want what is to come, but should the order be made with a Command Seal we will have no choice but to obey.”

The mage shook her head fiercely, her eyes now blazing with determination. “No. I will find a way, no matter what. I will _not_ lose you again, my darling. I wouldn’t be able to bear it. Not again. I will find a way to make our wish a reality. I will find a way that won’t require either of us sacrificing ourselves for the Grail.”

Sylvanas chuckled again, pushing away the few stubborn hairs that always escaped from the top of her wife’s braid. “You always were the idealist of the two of us. You make me want to believe that your idea is possible, that there might be a happy ending for us after all.”

Jaina smirked up at her beloved, placing a light kiss on the other woman’s cheek. “It _is_ possible, you’re just being a huge downer right now. I thought I had broken you of that but here we are again.”

“Perhaps I have been without you so long that I am now backsliding into bad habits.” Something warm settled in the Banshee’s chest at the return of their easy banter, proof that regardless of time and death and others, their love would always prove stronger than all of it. She’d never been one for such sappy thoughts before, but Jaina had changed many things in her since their marriage and it was fairly comforting to see that those things had stayed the same ever since. 

Still, there was something that Sylvanas wanted desperately and since Jaina was there, within reach, smiling up at her with that gorgeous smile and those twinkling eyes...

She leaned down at the same time as her arms went around her wife’s back, pulling the mage into a full, sweet kiss. The taste of those plush lips was something that she’d been missing since lifetimes ago, and having it again felt as though she’d been dying of thirst in the desert and was just now drinking the purest of spring waters. Instinctively she pulled Jaina even closer, moaning softly as the mage deepened the kiss and her tongue twined with Sylvanas’ own, Jaina’s hands going to the back of Sylvanas’ head and pulling lightly at her hair. 

The moment was interrupted by the sound of an explosion nearby, making the lovers jump apart, their weapons at the ready. Jaina had summoned Archus, her greatstaff, and gripped it tightly in both hands, while Sylvanas had dismissed Oathbinder and had instead called Deathwhisper to her, an arrow nocked and ready in the blink of an eye.

A great roar made both their hair stand on end, and from the dust cloud an enormous _thing_ flew backwards, almost as if thrown by a great force. It landed in a heap, but rolled to its feet soon enough and unleashed another great roar. Now that the creature was on its feet and still long enough for them to be able to take a good look at it, they were both able to recognize it easily and immediately.

“ _Greymane._ ” Sylvanas spat, her distaste for the man never having diminished, let alone abated, in the entirety of her life. _Of course_ he would be summoned for this Grail War as well, and judging by the glimmer of madness in his eyes, he had been called as a Berserker. 

Wonderful.

The Worgen king reacted immediately to Sylvanas’ voice, his head swivelling toward her and his eyes fixating on her as soon as his gaze met her own. He unleashed another great roar and charged at the Banshee with a speed that he hadn’t possessed in life. Sylvanas was hard-pressed to dodge the attack even though she had seen it coming, but her own innate agility and reflexes were able to save her in the nick of time. 

Greymane wasn’t about to give up that easily, however, and he pivoted back toward his most hated enemy. He lunged toward Sylvanas again while unleashing a barrage of swipes that would have cut almost anyone else into ribbons, the fog of rage clouding his mind making him incapable of forming any thoughts but one: _KILL_.

 _Damn it, all of his skills have been heightened by the Berserker class bonus. The old dog wasn’t exactly bad before, but he was never this fast!_ Sylvanas growled to herself as she jumped back from a blow that cratered the spot she had been standing in just a few moments before. She quickly nocked her arrow again and fired on instinct, her shot striking true and tearing through Greymane’s left shoulder before exploding. 

There was barely any damage there, only a black spot that bled sluggishly giving any indication that anything had happened at all. Sylvanas’ eyes widened and her ears stood up in alarm. _Just how high is his endurance now?! Am I going to have to pull_ THAT _to finish him off?_ She didn’t have time for more thoughts before Greymane was once again going for her throat, roaring incoherently and foaming at the mouth. 

He was faster than before and stronger as well, leaving small craters on the ground where Sylvanas had been before his strikes connected. The madness brought on by his class prevented him from being able to form any kind of coherent or intelligent thought, so he was unable to strike strategically or use any kind of leverage other than that which was guided by his instincts, but his enhanced attributes, particularly his speed and strength, were proving to be enough for the time being. Fixated on the Banshee as he was, he kept chasing her as she tried to put distance between them so that she could fire at him. 

Sylvanas got a few shots in, she was _that_ skilled, but the situation was most definitely not to her advantage, as his refusal to give up and give her the space to manoeuvre meant that she didn’t have the ability to make a decisive blow strike home. Trying to fight him head-on with her polearm or a sword was also out of the question. If she tried to engage him at melee range things would become even more precarious for her than they already were, as a single mistake would be enough for him to use the opening to tear out her throat or rip off one of her arms. Although she could perhaps use Oathbinder’s length to get some range, the more likely scenario would be Greymane simply breaking the shaft of the weapon and trying to stab her with it or closing the distance to claw her face off once the polearm was out of his way. 

No, Sylvanas had no choice but to keep taking potshots and hope that she’d be able to hurt him somewhere that would gain her a few seconds, just enough time to put enough distance to properly aim _once_. One proper shot to the head and she could put the overgrown mutt out of his misery. For now, she had to concentrate on not dying and trying to wear out or slow the dog down so that she could turn him into a rug like she should have done long ago.

For her part, Jaina was busy in a battle of her own, or else she would have been helping Sylvanas hold Greymane off. 

The opponent that the Worgen king had been fighting before their explosion interrupted the kiss she had been sharing with her wife had taken a shine to Jaina, lunging from the cover of the dust cloud and going for her throat immediately. It was only a combination of luck, good reflexes, and the strength of her magical wards that had saved her, but even then she had felt some of the damage bleed through and nick at her flesh, a line of blood now decorating a spot far too close to her jugular for comfort. 

She was actually fairly sure that whatever had tried to cut her head off had poisoned the weapon with which the strike had been made. Normal steel wouldn’t have been able to even _graze_ her barriers at all, but a magical attack of high strength or highly specialized poisons meant to counter protective magic could do the trick. That or a weapon designed to bypass magical protections altogether, but if that had been the case then her wards would have been as useful as wet paper. No, it was most likely that the weapon had been coated in a poison made to overcome strong personal shields, and it was only the amount of power she’d infused into her hastily-constructed ward that had truly saved her. 

She had scarce seconds to think about this, as the figure was back with a vengeance, unleashing a flurry of blows that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Jaina was hard-pressed to keep up with the defense, being pushed back bodily and magically as the regular ice barrier that she kept about her person was simply not strong enough to truly absorb the damage that was being dealt to her. The strikes were made with surgical precision and with a strength that was more than just physical, nicks and cuts beginning to dot all of Jaina’s skin. A particularly brutal thrust almost hit her in the face and she pulled back with a millisecond to spare, but she leaned back too much and lost her balance for a moment.

That moment was all the time her attacker needed, lunging in again but this time managing to cut two deep gashes in her upper left arm and a long diagonal line at the top of her right thigh. 

Jaina forced herself to not scream, hastily encasing the wounds in some ice to prevent herself from bleeding out. It was a half-measure at best, but she didn’t have the time to recover right then and there, so it would have to do until this battle was over. 

She was fighting a living shadow, the blades that had cut at her flesh a blur of motion even for her with her magically-enhanced sight, nothing but steel that glinted under the artificial light of the poles as proof that there was even anything there. The figure themselves were hidden by a cloak of darkness that shielded them completely. The mage was unable to tell whether they were a man, a woman, their height, their build, the weapon they wielded or any other kind of information that might have been any use in this fight. 

There was only one class that could pull something like this off: Jaina was fighting a highly-skilled Assassin.

Countering such a foe as things were was truly impossible. Attempting to catch them wasn’t feasible when she couldn’t even see who or what was doing this or even the how. But considering that Sylvanas was Archer, Genn was Berserker, and this fighting style was one that she had seen before, a style that belonged to one Elf in particular…

Jaina called upon her magic and the next time a strike hit the edges of her barrier, she pushed it outwards in a sphere of frost. 

The strength of the spell forced the shadows back, nullifying the Assassin’s presence concealment completely. From their cover emerged a familiar black-and-blood-red armor. Golden hair tied in a high ponytail swayed lightly in the cool night breeze, and now free from the obscuring darkness, the blazing emerald eyes of Valeera Sanguinar looked directly back at her own.

“Excellent trick, Lady Proudmoore.” Valeera murmured softly, spinning her daggers lazily in her hands as she rose from her crouch. “Now that you are certain it is me you are fighting, what is it that this is supposed to do for you?”

 _Are all the Servants in this Grail War from my time period or is this some kind of cosmic joke? I thought we were supposed to be summoned from the past, present_ and _future!_ Jaina thought grumpily to herself, though considering the sense of humor that the Gods seemed to have, it definitely could have been a great cosmic joke. 

She didn’t have the time to dwell on those thoughts, however. Valeera was not someone to be taken lightly in combat, and if given the choice she _really_ would have preferred not to fight the woman at all. However, this was a Grail War. No matter that they had been friends while they’d been alive, their goal was the same now, and she had no doubt that Valeera would kill her if she gave the Elf half a chance. 

There would be no convincing the Assassin to lay down her arms and try to figure out a solution together. Their objective was to obtain the Holy Grail, a prize that only one Servant could make their own. There was no room for that kind of naivety here, not now. This would be a fight to the death, and Jaina gave herself two seconds to mourn over the loss of her friend once again before her eyes hardened and she felt the swell of arcane in her veins once more. 

“Now that I am certain it _is_ you I’m fighting, I can _win._ ” Jaina growled out as she threw out a frostbolt at Valeera’s feet.

Valeera dodged nimbly and twirled her daggers back into her preferred grip for slashing, rushing in at a ridiculous speed and trying to lop Jaina’s hand off. 

Jaina didn’t bother dodging, instead reinforcing the ice barrier on her body as much as she could and calling on a blizzard that blanketed the area in falling shards of ice, subtlety be damned. 

Valeera vanished from the field, using both her years of experience as a spy and assassin as well as her class’ special ability to erase her presence again, waiting for the blizzard to dissipate and looking for an opening through which she could strike. Jaina was a ridiculously strong mage, the last great Archmage that their era had seen. Truly, she was the best choice for a Caster that any Master could have hoped for, but even she had her weak points. Even she couldn’t keep up a perfect defense forever, and when she let her guard down, Valeera would be ready.

There was no place for friendships and weakness in this War. The Holy Grail would be hers, and she would see her wish granted by the miraculous artifact no matter the cost. 

She swapped her regular blades out for Anguish and Sorrow, Twin Daggers of the Kingslayer, and waited for her chance. 

Jaina called off the blizzard but didn’t lower her guard, her senses on high alert and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. She may not be able to see Valeera at the moment, but she was absolutely certain that the Assassin was only waiting for the most minuscule opening before striking. Jaina couldn’t afford to be distracted and she couldn’t afford to leave any such openings where the woman might be able to take advantage of them. She needed to take her out _fast_ but how to fight a living shadow?

“You know, I never did understand how it is that your marriage managed to last for more than the first few days. I had honestly expected you both to kill each other before the week was out.”

Jaina threw an ice lance at the place where the voice had come from, but of course she hit nothing but air. The woman was too damn slippery to be caught like that.

“Imagine my surprise when a year passed, then two, and you were still there, the new alliance holding strong.”

The mage was thoroughly tempted to call on another blizzard, but that would only make the other woman hide farther away and continue waiting until she got tired or her mana was exhausted. It wasn’t going to happen any time soon, but every second she wasted was another second that Valeera could pull some kind of trick to make her threats into something substantial. Her left arm flared as if to remind her of just what the Assassin was capable of, and her brow furrowed as she tried to pinpoint where the Elf might be hiding.

“Did you actually fall in love with her?”

Jaina’s eyes widened as her senses _screamed_ danger, and she just barely managed to dodge the hail of projectiles that came her way. The knives crashed into the spot where she’d just been standing, deadly sharp metal coated in a sickly-green substance.

Her eyes blazed a brilliant ice blue and a ring of fire extended outwards from her, scorching the earth in her path and illuminating everything within her field of vision. 

Nothing.

“Always so oblivious…looking only for things that are directly in front of you, and relying too much on a single sense. You mages are all the same. So easy to mislead, so easy to _distract._ ” The voice was sing-song in its taunting, accompanied by another small burst of knives being thrown at her. Jaina fully blocked those, still trying to determine where the other woman could be hiding, cold sweat running down her forehead.

She saw a shape blur to her right and threw out a wall of fire in that direction, pouring a hefty amount of power behind it before noticing that the figure was not rushing towards _her_ but instead towards where Sylvanas was still fighting off Genn.

Panic flowed through her veins and she directed her whole might toward the blur, her heart beating frantically in her chest as her blood roared in her ears, fear for Sylvanas clouding out everything else.

Fear clouded her senses long enough for Valeera to find her opening at last.

“All too easy.” The murmur came from just behind her right ear, the Assassin plunging the dagger into her ribs instead of straight through her heart by sheer dumb luck. Jaina had been moving at the exact time that the Elf had attempted her mortal strike, and it was this that forced Anguish into her side and saved her in the process.

The serrated blade tearing into her skin forced a scream from the mage’s mouth, pure and unadulterated _agony_ burning through her body as the edges of the blade ripped through muscle and sinew alike.

Sylvanas’ mistake was to look in her wife’s direction.

She had been doing fairly well, all things considered, and had a few bruises and scratches to her name, but she had been doing far more damage than the dog could withstand easily and he had begun slowing down. She simply needed to keep at it and soon enough she would be able to get the clean shot that she had been striving for, but the moment Jaina’s scream of pain reached her ears, her head automatically turned in the direction of her beloved’s voice.

That single split second of distraction was all the time that Greymane needed. With a victorious roar, he plunged one claw through the Banshee’s chest and _squeezed_ down on her heart, his other claw savagely ripping out her throat. 

Sylvanas fell to the ground without a sound, the glow of her eyes having dimmed to nothingness and her gaze empty, that of the dead. 

The scream that was torn from Jaina’s throat easily rivalled a Banshee’s wail in its grief and rage. Sylvanas had once again been ripped away from her. She’d _just_ found her wife, _just_ promised her that she would find a way for them to be together again, for them to find the happiness that was stolen from them in life. 

And now, the woman she adored more than anything else in the world was gone again.

Her eyes began to glow, arcane energy swelling within her and jumping to her fingertips, _begging_ to be used, to tear those that had murdered her beloved limb from limb. 

All of a sudden her mind was clear and she knew exactly what to do. 

With a swipe of her hand, the entirety of the battlefield was frozen solid. Nothing in sight was able to escape the confines of the prison that she’d brought about in a simple motion, but she would leave nothing to chance and forced time itself to warp around the other two Servants. Valeera and Greymane were both well and truly _trapped,_ and there would be no letting them go until they had both payed for what they had done.

As expected, they attempted to struggle, having both realized what it was that was happening to them in the scant milliseconds before Jaina’s Time Warp had taken hold. 

How amusing.

Their struggle was futile, and there would be no escaping the devastation that she would bring down upon them for forcing her to relive the worst moment of her life.

Jaina closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, exhaling softly before her voice rang across the snowy field like an unyielding hammer.

“ _Across the vast, endless seas_  
_There was a distant land of sailors_  
_Which housed the Admiral’s hopes and dreams_ ”

As she spoke, runes and lines began appearing across the snow, connecting and entwining to form a complex circle of arcane inscriptions.

“ _This island-home she made her own_  
_Was her haven, her pride, her joy_  
_But what the Tides gave freely the Orc destroyed_ ”

The circle expanded and pulsed with energy, beginning to transform the space within and giving rise to a… _city?_

The blood in Valeera’s veins turned to ice as the shapes of buildings began to fully materialize and as the words of the aria registered in her mind, panic beginning to set in as she began to realize just what exactly it was that Jaina would unleash on them. Even Greymane was able to understand, through the depths of his madness, that they were about to be on the receiving end of something Truly Terrible. 

_If this truly_ is _what I think it is, we’re all doomed. Belore only knows the devastation that that_ thing _could cause if it lands. Unless…_ The Elf’s eyes widened in terror as she saw the way the dome warped and bent space. _No, it’s a Reality Marble, it would all be contained to here. She doesn’t even need to worry about property damage or anything leaking out of this space. We’re going to die and nobody will even notice it happening._

“ _The devastation he wrought_  
_Erased all that she’d loved_  
_From then on her voice rose_  
_A savage cry torn from her throat_ ”

Jaina’s eyes glowed so brightly that the light engulfed them completely, her whole body filled to burst with mana. The energy was too much for her body to contain alone, crackling lines of mana surrounding her like electricity, wanting to be _unleashed_. 

With a word, she gave in.

“ _Theramore._ ”

Tall buildings made of white stone and blue tiles rose from the ground, water fountains and lush gardens sprawling on either side of the paved roads. A lone tower was in the centre of the city, its top displaying a proud flag of pure white fabric with an anchor stitched in blue taking pride of place in the center, three nautical suns underneath and a stylized ‘L’ in the upper-right corner.

But there was no time to admire the beauty of the city that had sprung from Jaina’s memories, for that was not its purpose here. Its true purpose was revealed as the sound of whirling blades reached their ears when a goblin gunship passed overhead, releasing a sphere that housed the deadliest weapon to have ever been invented during the Age of Legends.

The whistle of the wind as the Mana Bomb descended was almost the last sound that Valeera Sanguinar and Genn Greymane would hear in this temporary new life.

“ _Perish._ ” Jaina growled, her voice so low and guttural that it was not human.

In the moment before death took her again, Valeera saw bronze-colored skin and dark crimson lips smiling gently at her, golden eyes soft as they were for her and only her. In spite of her failure, she couldn’t help but smile back.

The world went white.

Jaina collapsed to her knees at once, the amount of mana needed to conjure the Reality Marble having drained her physically while the memories of all she’d lost and all the death that had followed her drained her emotionally. She didn’t have the ability to cry anymore, even though she dearly wanted to. How many times would she have to go through this again? How many times would she have to lose everything she held dear before it was enough? How many times would she need to have her heart torn from her chest and destroyed in front of her, forcing her to try and knit it back again and again?

Her whole body trembled, her eyes dry despite how much she wished there would be _something_ she could give, a release of some kind to be had for the loss of the woman she loved more than anything else once more.

However, her world tilted on its axis when she found herself engulfed in strong, familiar arms. A sweet scent of flowers, cold steel, and something that was so uniquely _Sylvanas_ that there was no mistaking it for anything else invaded her nose, as she was pressed against a cool neck and held close, while an echoing voice with a melodious lilt tried to soothe her with gentle words and loving praise.

Sylvanas was back.

Sylvanas was _back._

_Sylvanas was back._

Jaina clung to her wife with every single fiber of her being, the dam that had been bottled up inside her in her grief finally breaking loose as she cried, streams of tears pouring from her eyes as she clawed at Sylvanas’ back, wanting to be closer, so close that they would never be separated again. She was barely able to pull back, but the desire, the _need_ to see those beautiful red eyes made it tolerable to put that small amount of distance between them.

Sylvanas’ eyes looked into hers with love and understanding, the Banshee’s hand lifting from around Jaina’s body to wipe tenderly at the tears that continued falling down her cheeks. She pressed her forehead to the mage’s own and whispered words that Jaina had thought she would never hear again. “I’m here, Dalah’surfal. I’m here. I’m not going to leave you.”

Jaina could scarcely believe what she was hearing and seeing, but her heart was filled with hope and love and terror and uncertainty, and it was _so_ much, but Sylvanas was _here_ , in front of her, alive and well and so heartbreakingly beautiful that she wasn’t sure what to believe.

“ _How?_ ” She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I…I saw you _die._ I saw…I saw Greymane put his hand through your chest. I saw him claw at your throat. How…How are you here? Have I died as well?”

Sylvanas shook her head and cradled Jaina’s face lovingly, her eyes softening even more when the mage burrowed into her touch and pressed her own hand to the back of Banshee’s own. “You forget who I am, my love. I am Sylvanas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen. I have died many times, but it only stuck once.”

Jaina’s eyes widened in understanding as Sylvanas’ words sank in. “The Val’kyr.”

The things that had most marked a person during their lifetime and were remembered in legend were the things that would eventually encapsulate that legend and become the Hero’s Noble Phantasms. Of course, the Val’kyr being there to bring their Queen back from the dead was one of those things that would be most prominent and most remembered, becoming so cemented in the legend of Sylvanas Windrunner that it would be impossible to divorce the two.

“So then…”

Sylvanas nodded. “It’s not quite like it was in our lifetime, though. It seems like the legends exaggerated the powers of my Val’kyr a bit. I would need to be killed eight more times before I would be gone for good.”

At this, Jaina clung even tighter to Sylvanas, squeezing her wife so hard to her that if she had been alive it would have undoubtedly hurt. As it was, she simply returned the embrace and buried her nose in the crook of Jaina’s neck, taking in the scent of mana, blood, soot, and underneath it all a something that was just _Jaina._ It soothed something within Sylvanas, righting something in her world that had been utterly and completely _wrong_ until this moment when her heart was back with her, where she belonged.

“You’re going to keep those seven extra lives exactly where they are.” Jaina sobbed. “I’m not going to let _anyone_ hurt you ever again.”

“Nor I you, Dalah’surfal.” Sylvanas murmured softly, gently stroking her beloved’s hair in a pattern that had always been calming to the other woman. “I believe in you, Jaina. I know you will find a way to get us both out of this.”

Hope and happiness bloomed in Jaina’s chest at those words, and she resolved in that very moment to move heaven and earth to make that promise come true. Masters and other Servants, and everything else be damned, her wish had come true at last and she would burn the entire world down before she lost it again. She would find a way to make them both come out of this alive, no matter how impossible it might have seemed.

After all, Jaina Proudmoore had always loved a good challenge.


End file.
